


Bright

by Arlyshawk



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Astrology, Constellations, F/M, Inspired by Music, Stars, mentions of sickness, slightly fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:46:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4301784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arlyshawk/pseuds/Arlyshawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One night, when Eowyn stares up at the stars she gets an surprise guest. They bond over stories of the stars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bright

**Author's Note:**

> The statement about Draconis isn't true or false. I'm going off the fact that Draco, the actual constellation, is a summer constellation.

_Inspired by "Bright" by Echosmith_

**Characters: Eowyn Trevelyan, Alistair Theirin**

**Relationship: Mention of Eowyn x Alistair**

Eowyn loves the stars. 

She grew up staring at them, sitting on her father's knee and listening to him connect the stars with a finger and storytelling. He said that Judex is judgment, the sword, the penance. Then, there is Kios - chaos - an Old God in the form of stars, though she forgets which one it is. She can see Eluvia, the lady crowned with curly hair and sitting criss cross, the Sacrifice. Her father has taught all of these stars to her when she was at his knee. It seems forever ago to her… She has been gone from her home in Ostwick for so long, she can barely remember her sisters and brother now. As it is, she can only think of her father in all of his fragility from his wasting sickness. There is a weariness in him that was never there before Elora's birth, after that he has been so sick. The rasp of his breathing makes her shudder and touch her heart. 

Eowyn will not lie to herself when she wonders if she share the same fate as him. 

Leaning on the balustrade, she counts the star to see if she can find more when she hears the door creaking open. Whipping her head around, she sees the shimmer of polished silver and a screaming griffon. Rhaella's contact, Alistair, is holding a letter in his hand and there is a frown on his face. It does not suit him, she finds as he meanders around the battlement. 

"Bloody Mahariel," Alistair hisses as he finishes the letter and crunches it up in his hands before throwing it over the side of Skyhold into the icy depths. He clenches his fists at his sides and preps to storm off, but stops abruptly when they lock eyes. The shock rises in his face like the heat on the back of her neck, "Uh, Inquisitor Trevelyan! What a surprise!" 

Eowyn dips her head to him, "Warden Alistair." 

He is nervous, though that is plain to see on his face and in the fidgeting of his hands. She's never seen him with such nerves, the anger that was in his voice before shocks her still but this? This is certainly new to her. And it's fascinating to her. 

He gestures to the stars gleaming above them, "Nice night. Are.. you stargazing?" 

"Yes! I am," It’s a partial lie and she knows it. In truth, she is up here to think of her father, of her family that is so far away from her. Eowyn gives him a smile, "Care to join me?" 

Alistair blinks, as if not quite catching her meaning, and reminds her of an owl. A rather befuddled barn owl, in fact. A bubble of laughter dares to rise in her belly, but she forces it down. She must not laugh at how funny his expression is; she is the Inquisitor, a symbol, not a giggling schoolgirl. 

Alistair nods, "I think that's all right." 

"You _think_?" Her voice is soft as he approaches her side and copies her position. 

His brown eyes lift to the stars, gleaming with pinpricks of light that is all their own. They're beautiful, they are as rich as chocolate and they laugh when he smiles. It’s a smile that she has never seen in anyone, not even in her brother who is happier than a cat in sunlight. And she finds that she loves them. When Rhaella first introduced them, she did not think much of him, save that he was a Warden from the Free Marches. Now, she sees a different man - a _man_ , not a Warden. 

His voice breaks her reverie, "There's Draconis." 

Eowyn starts, looking toward the heavens to where Alistair gestures. Out of the thousands of stars, she can see Eluvia still with her crown of hair. She leans closer to Alistair, trying to trace the pattern but finds nothing. _The stars may not always be there, little filly, but they are there,_ her father used to say. She hears his voice still in her ears, calm like a soft tide on the beach. 

"I don't see it," Eowyn murmurs and looks up at him. This close, she can see the moonlight in his hair that makes plaits of golden silver and the amber flecks in his eyes. Her ears ring dully and there is a skip in her chest, but she forces it down. This is not the time, she tells herself, she is the Inquisitor. She must not get too close, she must stay her distance, for fear of hurting someone. If she dies - no, she will die sometime, her head says so \- there will be heartache. She shrinks down, "Where is it?" 

Alistair points to a star, one that winks at the both of them, "There's its head and then," He traces down to make the screaming dragon, "There's the body, the head… Wait a minute, that's not right." 

Eowyn watches his face contort in thought, he sighs, "Blast it, I got it wrong." 

"No, Draconis is a summer constellation. What you're seeing is Kios." 

"Kios?" He looks up at the sky, squinting as if the starlight is too bright for him to see the makeup of twinkling lights. "Oh, I see it. You know, you can map these pretty well." 

Eowyn feels a flush of heat on her neck again and she chews the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying anything. _Learn to take compliments_. It has always been hard for her take them, even when she was a girl. She always said thank you and ran off, never anything more. She is the eldest, yet she cannot stand being complimented without thinking there's some falsity in someone's words. She smiles, however smile and sheepish it might be. 

"M-My father taught me," She says, though her voice rattles like coins in a tin. "He taught me a lot as a girl. How to ride, how to use a bow, how to hunt and track." 

Alistair smiles at her, and it’s the smile that she loves. It comes from his eyes and his cheeks and its truer than the sun on a warm day. "Sounds like a fantastic man." 

"He is," Eowyn scuffs her boots on the flagstones. 

There is a taut pluck of melancholy in his voice then, "It's always good to hear about fathers." 

Eowyn glances up at the stars once more, "How about yours? Did he teach you much?" 

"I.. I didn't really have a father. Unless one counts the Chantry." 

Eowyn widens her eyes and glances over at Alistair, "You.. Didn't? Nothing?" 

"Nope, I slept with dogs for ten years and then when I was ten I was sent off to the Chantry to become a Templar." He sighs heavily, "Then I became a Grey Warden.' 

For a long moment, there is a yawning void of silence between, staring up at her, daring her to speak into the nothingness. Swallowing the lump "Is it hard? Especially with Corypheus and his… nonsense?" 

"Harder than you think, Inquisitor." 

Reaching over, she takes his hand and gives it a firm squeeze. There is a moment, she thinks he won’t do anything, but then he returns the affection. It is warm and soothing, like being twirled up in a blanket in the cold. And there are calluses on his hands, she can feel them through the rich, worn leather of his gloves. He lifts her hand to his lips and presses a feather-light kiss to her knuckles that makes her heart flutter in her chest. She smiles a secret smile to the ground with the hopes that her hair will shade her face. Whether or not it does what she intends, she does not know. 


End file.
